The Second Parallel
by Tv Centric Universe
Summary: "The video wasn't long, barely passing a minute thirty, but full of of danger. A sole message rang out- Tyson had Ryan. With Esposito, they had survived concussions and the odd situation without a gun but never anything like this. This was something entirely different,. It was hell, nothing else could be said. " Based on '3XK'. Complete/under construction.
1. Chapter 1

**Beckett's point of view**

* * *

><p>Beckett got a call, from Castles mother, which was odd. Martha sounded hysterical, and then she heard about Castle saying I love you. It finally made sense, Castle had stopped texting her half an hour ago, even after she had responded how many times.<p>

She had to admit saying I love you shouldn't have been a warning sigh, but it was. Now she was in all out panic mode. Castle was in danger, in a motel room with a serial killer.

He could already be dead. For all she knew he was bleeding out on the motel room floor with Jerry Tyson leaving like nothing was wrong. She couldn't help but feel responsible. If only I said no, and never let him leave, there was no reason for him to even be there. Or at least if she went with him, then Beckett would know if he was okay. She should have volunteered, instead of going out for a beer with Montgomery. Only she knew what happened when you leave Castle alone with some normal acting psychopath serial killer.

And what about Ryan, he was with Castle too. Everyone knew Ryan and Esposito were close. Did he even know Ryan was with the triple killer, did any one even inform him? Probably not she decided.

What if they were dead, it would be all her fault. Castle shouldn't have gone, he was just so happy she couldn't say no, he had that effect on her. He had family, a daughter and friends outside of work and what did she have. A father and her career. She could have gone; she didn't have a child to look after. She could never forgive herself if Castle or Ryan died.

She couldn't continue her job. Not knowing Tyson would be free to kill again, all because she couldn't put two and two together, just like what happened with Dunn. She had to admit he made her job fun. In the beginning he was just a tag along but he had become a partner, her partner and she probably couldn't continue with the guilt of his death. Yes it sounds cliché, but you don't know how that feels.

* * *

><p><strong>It short and will get longer.<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

**Esposito's point of view  
><strong>

* * *

><p>Esposito got a call from Beckett. It was unusual not just because the captain usually called him with a case, but she was also off duty. Hesitantly picking it up, she told him about Castles mother and the "I love you" theory.<p>

But if Castle was in danger and Ryan was with him. It took a few moments to put two and two together. If Castle was in danger then Ryan was also in danger and possibly already dead.

They were bros and partners, everyone knew that. But they had a deeper connection, only Beckett knew about it. They both came from dark childhoods, why do you think they became cops. They were both abused or saw someone else being abused. They were kind of like Castle and Beckett, whatever you did you couldn't separate then. And like Castle and Beckett you could swear they were a couple or should have been. Sometimes they stood to close together or looked at each other a certain way. A way only Castle and Beckett could relate to. Yes he had Lanie, and Ryan had Jenny, but there situation was similar to Castle and Beckett. Beckett had Sorenson and Castle had Kyra. They had loved them, but then the love ran out. Yes they still had liked spending time with them in a more than friendly way, but they weren't fully committed. That was Ryan and Esposito. The never kissed, nothing like that. But according to everyone neither had Castle and Beckett.

And if Ryan was dead, it would kill him inside. Who would be his partner, they will find another rookie, but Ryan was more than just a partner, he was his best friend and no amount of time or alcohol could erase that.

He should have gone. He and Lanie had been going out for far less time than Ryan and Jenny. Ryan wanted a family, and children. All he wanted was a long time girlfriend, maybe a wife, and defiantly no children. He should have gone with him, at least he would know if Ryan was okay. He could have gone instead of Castle. Kate needed him more than anything and it would give Ryan and Esposito chance to be together. He was a horrible partner. Partners never leave each other sides, and that's exactly what Esposito just did. He abandoned his partner, and who knows what happened to Ryan in that motel room.

Climbing into his car, Esposito began driving to the precinct.

* * *

><p><strong>It is short and will get longer.<strong>


	3. Chapter 3

**Castles point of view**

* * *

><p>Although going to tell a suspect his girlfriend was okay wasn't Castles exact idea of fun, he just wanted to see how it was done. He always wanted to learn and even though Beckett wasn't with him, Ryan was a surprisingly interesting person.<p>

When they reached the hotel, Castle practically jumped out of the car. Following Beckett was just a favor from the mayor but now he wanted to know about all the things cops go through, just not the cool shoot outs and interrogations.

When they entered the hotel room, Ryan began explaining the situation, the arrests, and etcetera. Then he noticed the duffel bag, that duffel bag that gave everything away. Castle then began his little theory, not exactly conspiracy, but close enough. Tyson reacted quickly, knocking out Ryan.

Tyson approached Castle slowly, not exactly in reach, but not far enough to avoid Castles hand if he wanted to try anything. When he finally came in range, Tyson pointed the butt of the gun toward Castle and everything went black.

When Castle became conscious he didn't know long he had been out, could be a hour, could be five minutes, he didn't really care. He began tugging at the ropes bonding his wrists together as well as the one holding his ankles to the chair. He may be crafty but he couldn't escape this.

Listening quietly, he noticed a barely audible ticking sound. A bomb. He couldn't pinpoint the sound, it didn't really matter. If he could hear the bomb it was close enough to obliterate him.

He couldn't die; he had too much to lose. He had a daughter, a mother; he had Beckett whatever she was. He couldn't leave them. His daughter would grow up without a father, yes she would have Beckett, but sometimes a girl just needed her dad. Mother would survive, no mother should have to bury her child, but if anyone could recover it was Martha.

And then came Beckett, what was she. She was his partner; that was pretty obvious. They were friends, maybe even her best friends minus Lanie. They were practically a couple, they should have been, they always acted like one, even when they weren't trying.

He shouldn't have been here. He should have been home with his daughter, or at the Old Haunt having a drink. He just wanted to learn what they do, just innocent learning. Now he was tied to a bomb. He couldn't even explain it.

It was like you knew death was coming and feeling at ease. He shouldn't have been this calm but he was. He should have been worrying about how his daughter would be brought up or how his death would affect everybody, but he was calm. Did it mean he didn't care about them, no he loved them? Maybe he was calm because he knew he had tried his best. He raised his daughter the best he could and she knew he loved her, that's all that matters right. And Beckett, maybe they weren't dating but everyone knew they should be. They were friends, partners and practically family. If he died she would be sad, but she was strong, why do you think he fell in love with her. He even gave her custody of his daughter, god forbid something happened to him.

He lived a good life, raised a good family, and had great friends. He lived the life; he loved his work and did it out of love not necessity.

Hearing the ticking speed up, he awaited death. It wouldn't be pretty, it would hurt, it would burn, it would feel like drowning in a volcano. But hey if you gonna go, go out with a bang, literally.

Hearing the final seconds tick by, he braced himself. A flash and a loud sound. A burning sensation, pain like no tomorrow and everything went black.

* * *

><p><strong>Please Review<strong>


	4. Chapter 4

**Ryan's point of view**

* * *

><p>Ryan drove quietly beside Castle, enjoying the comfortable silence. He wasn't exactly sure why Castle decided to come with him, maybe he was just bored, or maybe he just wanted to learn. Regardless of reasons they were going to tell Jerry everything was fine.<p>

When the car was finally perked at the motel, Castle almost jumped out of the car. Beckett was right; he was just like an overexcited puppy.

Entering the room of Jerry Tyson, he began explaining the situation, how his girlfriend was fine and how the suspect confessed. Then Castle noticed the duffel bag, the duffel bag that would make everything make sense. Ryan could almost see the wheels turning.

Castle dived into his theory, Ryan wasn't really paying attention, just watching how Tyson reacted. He was getting angry, like Beckett seeing Castle for the first time after the summer. The next thing he knew, Tyson had approached him and hit him with the butt of the gun. Everything went black.

When Ryan came to he was confused. He couldn't see even when his eyes were open. Then it hit him, he had something over his head. A pillow case he assumed. He felt vibrations and heard a motor, a van. He tried to move his hands, but they were bound together using duck tape, the same with his ankles. What did Jerry want with him and why wasn't he dead yet. Where the hell was Castle, was he already dead.

Where was he going? It didn't really matter. He was going away, probably to another city, probably to be killed or used as ransom. He would miss Jenny, he loved her. They wanted to get married, maybe have a few children. Most of all he would miss Esposito. They were best friends, partners and probably a lot closer than most people. They relied on each other through the good, the bad and the downright ugly. They would go out for drinks and play video games at each others houses. But now that he had Jenny and Esposito had Lanie they had began spending time together less and less. Sure he missed it, but they still saw each other at work, it wasn't like they avoided seeing each other. Sometimes he noticed people look at them strangely, and looking back he realized why. Sometimes they stood too close together or looking over each others shoulders looking way too comfortable.

Feeling the car come to a stop, Ryan tried again to guess where he was, but without knowing how long he was out his attempts were futile. Hearing heavy steps approach, Ryan tried to hide or at least seem as small as possible. Hearing rusty door open, he waited for death. He was surprised when he felt two people drag him by the arms out of the car and into a motel room by the smell of it. He prayed that someone would find him, because if anybody could track down the triple killer it was his friends at the twelfth.

* * *

><p><strong>Please review.<strong>


	5. Chapter 5

**Beckett's Point of View**

* * *

><p>Hopping out of the car, Beckett began running to the motel room, not caring if she had no back up. The motel room looked fairly normal from the exterior, no bullet holes or shattered glass. Approaching the door, she didn't bother knocking. Instead she put her ear up against the door, and heard nothing; just a small ticking from what she thought was her father's watch. Thank god he must be alive, she thought.<p>

Next thing she knew, the motel room exploded. The door collapsed on her, protecting her from the flames but probably breaking a few bones. She couldn't move, couldn't see, and didn't want to see. Maybe what she saw was Castles charred remains, black and unrecognizable. Maybe what she saw was Ryan's dead body. Whatever was in there it wasn't Jerry, it couldn't be. He had killed seven women, and gotten away with every single one. He even set up a copycat to take the fall. He was like a ghost, never here nor there, never guilty or innocent, never confessing.

But what she felt was not anger at Tyson but at herself. She should have put two and two together, should have gone with Castle. She should have tried to protect them.

Using the strength she had, she slowly inched out from underneath the door and what she saw amazed her. The room was charred, everything exposed surface was black, even the walls, which were miraculously still standing.

Slowly standing up she felt a pain in her ankle, it was sprained. Regardless of the pain she began walking through the door way, carefully avoiding all objects currently on fire. She was looking around for a body, she didn't want to but it had to be done. She had to know if her partner was safe or at least alive.

Turning around for what felt like the hundredth time she saw a chair. Not just a regular chair but a special chair because right beside it was a piece of Castles jacket, the khaki one he always wore. So it was Castle, and his body was somewhere else in the motel room.

So she continued looking, and just around the burning bed was Castle. His body still looked like him, it was charred and some of the skin was missing but it was still him. His pants remained intact, on fire but intact. Only the collar of his shirt had survived. His hair was covered with ash, like the rest of him. His face remained fairly clean; he probably used his arms to protect it when the bomb went off.

Gaining her composer, or at least trying to, she stumbled out of the room, as far away from his remains as possible. She couldn't stay in there. The thought of it made her nauseous, nauseous and angry. When she got to her car, she got in the back seat and stayed there. She didn't want to be in there or look for Ryan. If he was in there, she doubted he was, but if he was she wouldn't be able to continue. She would get obsessive and hunt him down.

What if she caused this? What if the bomb was activated by weight, someone standing at the door? What if she was the one responsible for Castles death? She wouldn't be able to take it and either would Esposito.

Driving home wasn't an option, so she waited quietly for Esposito.

* * *

><p><strong>Please Review<strong>**.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Esposito's point of view**

* * *

><p>Esposito almost ran out of the car, barely noticing Beckett was already there. He just needed to see Ryan. He didn't really wanted to go in but he had to. He prayed that Ryan was still alive, but after seeing the charred hotel room he didn't want to raise his hopes to much.<p>

Entering the motel room, he felt nauseous; it smelt of smoke and death. Hopefully not Ryan, he thought. I mean it's not like he didn't like Castle, they were good friends but Ryan was his partner. If something happened to him, guess who would have to tell Jenny. He couldn't lose Ryan, they were bros, they went through police academy together. If he lost Ryan it would have felt like Beckett loosing Castle.

Searching the destroyed motel room, Esposito stumbled across Castles remains. I mean they had to be Castles; it looked like him, in a burnt dead body kind of way. Looking around he felt relief wash over him. Ryan was nowhere to be found. I mean poor Castle, but at least he could survive that.

But if he lost Ryan, he couldn't continue. Through the years they had become best friends. They went through the academy together, and now they were partners. They were each others wing-men. They helped each other during personal cases, when Javier's old partner randomly re surfaced and when Ryan's brother was shot. They even went of double dates, despite the obvious awkwardness.

He would have been the cause of Ryan's death, god forbid something happened. At least he didn't die because of a bomb, Esposito thought, cringing at the thought of Ryan's body being blown to pieces.

But if he wasn't here, where was he. He could have been kidnapped; at least he would be safe. Or maybe he was moved to a more private location and killed there. That would make him harder to find but at least he could be alive, at least long enough for him to be found. He tried to think positive but it was no hope. His partner was out there, with an angry serial killer known for his ability to disappear. Castle was already proclaimed dead, but nobody knew about Ryan. Dead or alive, Esposito would find him, it's what partners did.

Exiting the charred motel room, Esposito almost ran to Beckett's car, descending the stairs two at a time. Sure enough there she was in the back of her car, looking emotionless as he probably did. He silently opened the door and slid into the seat beside her. She instinctively slid her legs to make room for him, sitting up in the process.

Nothing was said, no words were conversed, but none were needed. She looked depressed, like her partner had just died. He probably looked the same, just a little more anxious. His partner was missing, he could be dead, could be tortured, could be abducted by aliens. He wasn't here with Esposito and that's all that mattered.

They stayed there for a while, not talking just thinking. Thinking of all the tragedy, the worry and the grief yet to come. They thought of the lives they lost or were going to lose. They thought about the families that would be left behind and all the guilt they would feel. Most of all they thought about the loss of their partners. Castle; the annoying shadow turned best friend and unofficial partner. Ryan: the might be dead best friend.

He didn't know how long they sat there, not talking, not even making eye contact. Eventually Montgomery arrived, didn't talk, just took a seat in the passenger seat, maybe thinking, maybe wishing, or maybe planning a funeral.

Didn't matter if he had escaped before, they would find him. Hunt him down and kill him like the true monster he was.

* * *

><p><strong>Please Review<strong>


	7. Chapter 7

**Ryan's point of view**

* * *

><p>Previously on "The Second Parallel": Feeling the car come to a stop, he felt two people drag out of the car and into a motel room.<p>

Wherever he was he couldn't tell. It smelt like a normal motel room, like sweat and bleach. He didn't have much time to tell, his ankles and wrists were instantly bond to a chair using what felt like nylon, the same threads he used to strangle his victims. The mask was kept on for what felt like hours, but was probably only a few minutes. He heard heavy footsteps and the door creak open, assuming Jerry's partner was leaving.

He felt the pressure of a gun at his temple, instantly tensing up and praying he wouldn't get shot. He didn't want to get shot. I mean yes it would end his misery but he didn't want to die. He didn't want to be found with a bullet in his head. E didn't want to die.

What would it do to Javier? He would feel guilty, obviously. He would probably think he could have made a difference and he would have been wrong. Even Ryan didn't know it was Jerry they should be worried about. If it wasn't for Castle and his crazy theories, which are wrong about ninety percent of the time, then they wouldn't even be in this mess. Yes he would have gone free and killed more women, but at least they would have had more time. Castle wouldn't be dead and he wouldn't have been taken hostage.

Whatever brought them here seemed unimportant now. What happened had already happened and the only thing that mattered now was getting out. He heard shuffling and dragging on what he assumed was a desk. Jerry pulled off the mask currently covering his face and Ryan took in a deep breath. Then he noticed the cameras. The cameras attached to a laptop, probably for blackmail, Kevin thought. It couldn't be blackmail. He would rather be killed than used to free a serial killer. And recording it wouldn't help anything. It was bad enough they couldn't catch him before Castle but now they had to watch Ryan be killed and they couldn't even stop him. He couldn't let them feel responsible, Tyson was a master at disappearing, even if they found out where he was they wouldn't be able to catch him.

He couldn't let Esposito go through that. Thinking your best friend was killed was something no one should have to go through and now he had to watch Ryan be killed or held for ransom. Even worse he knew Javier would do it, risk his life for him and pay ransom money if it meant his life would be spared. He couldn't burden his friend with this.

He couldn't burden anyone with this. He deserved to die with dignity and not held ransom like a piece of bait. He deserved to be killed in private, as private as somebody can be killed. He didn't want his friends to see him like this. He wanted to go down as someone who brought justice to those eight women, and especially Castle, not victim number ten. He wanted to go down with dignity and although it may not be the best time for modesty, it was ore for his friends. They didn't need to see this, especially Javier. They have probably already seen Castles body, and felt responsible for it. Now they would have to see him be killed and think they could have stopped it, even if they couldn't. He couldn't let Esposito go through this. It's like Beckett loosing Castle. Esposito could survive Castles death; they were close but not as close as Javier and himself. It was like seeing your best friend's life hanging in the balance in exchange for money and not being able to deliver.

Mentally preparing for what was going to happen was the hardest thing he ever had to do. You have to welcome death but you must also fight it. Welcome it because you will most likely die and if you don't accept that leaving will be that much harder. But you must also fight it, what if you do survive. What if they find you, what if they make it in time? You have to want to live, to find your way back to the people you love. Mixed up in his emotion, he didn't even realize the light on the camera was green. They were filming.

* * *

><p><strong>Please Review.<strong>


	8. Chapter 8

**Beckett's point of view**

* * *

><p>Beckett sat at her desk, randomly scrolling through e-mails, even reading the junk mail. She didn't know what else to do. She could try to find Tyson, but the lack of evidence was giving them dead ends. He had disappeared again, this time killing her partner. She could have stopped him or could have at least saved Castle before the bomb went off. But then again, maybe the bomb blew up because of her. It couldn't be a coincidence that it went off just as she approached the door. Maybe it was her that ignited the bomb. The fire marshals were investigating and she knew they would find out.<p>

But if she did cause it to blow up, she would never forgive herself. Not only has she let a serial killer slip through her fingers, but she also killed her partner, leaving his daughter fatherless. She knew how that felt. Except this time Alexis would know the killer was.

Her mother's murder was different yet so similar to what happened to Castle. Both cases left behind a child, both around the same age. Both cases left one parent behind, if you considered Beckett as a parent. The difference was only a minor one. Alexis would know who did this; Beckett on the other hand would not. Alexis may spend time looking for Tyson, then again maybe she wouldn't. Beckett has and will continue to search for her Mothers killer, that was for certain.

Searching her inbox one last time an email caught her eye. It had no subject and no sender that she could see. It was most likely an encrypted e-mail, she thought. Curiosity got the best of her and clicking on the mysterious email, she was surprised to see it wasn't some cheap drug advertisement. It was a link, just a link; no words, no symbols, no pictures. According to the heading there wasn't even a sender. Clicking hesitantly on the blue highlighted words, she was surprised to see a video and upon closer inspection a video of Ryan.

He was tied up possibly on a chair with a black cloth over his mouth. The video wasn't that long, just showing Ryan struggling against the ropes. Then she noticed the dial on her speakers dialed to zero. Hesitantly she raised the volume somewhat frightened of what she might hear.

The video started out relatively quiet with just a bit of static. About ten seconds into the video a voice began to speak. It wasn't just any voice; it was the voice of Jerry Tyson. The voice that could make even the best interrogators' blood run cold and that voice that could make every word sound like a death threat. God, how she hated that voice.

The video wasn't long, barely passing a minute thirty, but there was still something about it that made her want to yell and cry at the same time. Tyson had asked for money in exchange for Ryan's life. That wasn't the only issue. She had money, not a lot mind you but enough to exchange for Ryan. The other problem was whether or not Tyson would stick true. He could kill Ryan any time he wanted, he could already be dead; the video was time stamped as an hour ago. Beckett put her head in her hands; her headache was now turning into a migraine.

Sighing heavily she stood up and entered Montgomery's office.

* * *

><p><strong>Please Review<strong>


	9. Chapter 9

**Esposito's point of view**

* * *

><p>Esposito was called into Montgomery's office a few minutes after Beckett angrily stormed in. Most likely something Ryan related thought Esposito.<p>

When he entered the office, he was surprised to see the lights turned off. It's what Roy did whenever they lost one of their own and although he knew this it still managed to catch him off guard. He had expected at least the desk lamp to be on, like it was every night since the discovery of the first strangled female. But yet the lights were off and there stood Beckett, depressed looking as expected.

Montgomery looked more angry than upset, like he wanted to strangle Jerry Tyson with his bare hands. With an audible sigh, Roy turned his computer screen one hundred and eighty degrees making it visible to Beckett and Javier.

Now he understood why Beckett was so angry, angry and upset. On the screen was his partner, scratch that, his best friend tied to a chair in some dingy motel room.

He impatiently waited for the video to finish, hands slowly clenching into a fist. So all Tyson wanted was money, a lot of money, but just money. His friend was worth a lot more than money. He had money, it wasn't as if he was poor, but it wasn't as if he had a ton of it. It didn't matter; he would be the one to pay off Tyson. It was what friends were for, what bro's were for.

Without hesitation, he volunteered. He knew the government wouldn't pay and he didn't want to burden anybody, especially not Jenny.

Roy sighed but agreed in the end. He understood the bond they shared, as partners and as brothers. He then advised them to head in for the night, nothing more could be done tonight. Esposito wanted to protest but deep down he knew the captain was right. Jerry had become so used to escaping; it was almost as if he didn't exists. He wished he didn't, all those women wouldn't be dead, his partner would be home safe, and Castle would still be here. Regardless of how he felt, he decided to go home, try to catch a few hours of sleep even though he knew it would be impossible.

He drove home grabbed the steering wheel with an iron grip, imaging it as Jerry Tyson. He blasted the music just so he wouldn't have to think. Minutes began to feel like hours in New York's iconic downtown traffic.

A song by Justin Beiber began playing, one of the better ones out of the horrible album Kevin made him listen to. Esposito remembered how Ryan used to like this stuff and sang at the top of his lungs to the annoying feminine voice.

He allowed himself to laugh for the first time during the case. He missed Ryan he really did, even though it had only been a few hours since they had last seen each other. Just thinking about what could be happening to him made him feel sick.

Arriving at his apartment, Esposito flopped down on his bed. There was no point changing out of his work clothes when much more important things than his own comfort.

He tried to sleep, he did but regardless of what he did sleep just didn't seem to come. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw that video replaying over and over, his heart rate increasing after each minute and a half.

When he finally got to sleep, he dreamed he saw Ryan lying there, blood staining his previously clean shirt. His dream then changed to Ryan, still alive but tied to a chair and struggling. A small ticking sound could be heard gradually gaining volume until it was a prominent as fear on his partners face. He urged himself to awake, he couldn't see this through, but like his previous attempts his body wouldn't listen. He felt paralyzed and as much as he wanted to help, he couldn't. He was forced to watch as the beeps increased and the hotel room blew, leaving his partner non-existent.

He bolted up right, mainly out of fear but partly because he swore he heard Ryan calling his name. He was covered in sweat, like waking up from a nightmare, especially one that had seemed so real. He could almost feel the heat of the flames on his skin, and it frightened him.

Knowing he wouldn't be able to get any sleep tonight, he settled on watching television. He quickly grabbed a beer, one with the highest percent of alcohol, just encase.

He settled on watching infomercials and tried to memorize what the obnoxious salesman was saying. With little success, he gave up. He kept the television on, more for a source of light not entertainment. He let his mind wander, trying to keep it off the fate of his partner. To his surprise his efforts payed off, for about a minute. It had wandered to baseball, or more or less who would be the best team to bet on and actually make money. Then his mind wandered back to Ryan, how he would always try to make the right choice and end up owing Esposito a large unreasonable sum or drinks at The Old Haunt.

Finishing off the last few drops of the now warm beer, Esposito tiredly got out of bed. He knew sleep wouldn't come easy but troubled sleep is still better than none, especially with the shifts he had to work.

It must be easy for Beckett. He didn't mean emotionally, no they were closer than anybody he had ever met including his own parents. He just meant at least she knew what had happened to him. At least she didn't spend every second worrying if she had come too late.

He could only hope he wasn't too late.

* * *

><p><strong>Please Review.<strong>


	10. Chapter 10

**Esposito's point of view**

Javier walked up to the hotel room, cold air barely noticed by the Latino detective. Here he was, a duffle bag full of money and determination in his eyes. This was it, the time he had been dreading all day about, and yet he welcomed it. Today was the day he got Ryan back, his Ryan. Today was the day Esposito would one day laugh about instead of cringing about what could have been. This was the day him and Kevin would remember as the day they caught Jerry Tyson, the infamous three x k. Well at least that's how he would see it. Kevin would probably see it as the worst day of his life.

For the first time tonight the determination began to dim in his eyes. He suddenly got very anxious. He looked around stupidly, knowing that no one was there, hiding on the shadows. Tyson had said no cops and as Esposito was quickly learning whatever Tyson said, you did whether you liked it or not.

He knew he shouldn't have been like this; his partner was in there, waiting for him, relying on him to do his job. Maybe it was just nerves that made his confidence waver or maybe it was the feeling deep in his gut that it wouldn't be an equal trade. Maybe it was setup, or maybe all this money was going towards a corpse. He quickly pushed that thought out of his mind, but the possibility still stung. He was always loyal to his partner "Till the wheels fall off" but right now he didn't even know if there was anything for the wheels to support. He was risking his life for his partner, and maybe something a little more, but what if wasn't worth it. He tried to be positive but the thought continued to cross his mind, leaving him body feeling numb.

Running the last few feet he began ascending the steps, two at a time. Walking would have given him more time to prepare, but that also meant more time to second guess, to wonder if this was really the right thing.

All his thinking stopped when a gunshot pierced the otherwise silent air. He began sprinting past empty rooms of the cheap motel, thousands of dollars dropped and forgotten. He tried to make it to the door and imagined himself entering, seeing a shocked and joyful Ryan standing over the motionless body of Jerry Tyson, but it was just his overactive imagination making him believe in false hope.

The door was locked and Esposito nearly broke something ramming through it. For a moment he was blinded, the image of a victorious Ryan still engraved in his mind. But what he saw was something entirely different. Tyson stood there grinning one of his twisted sadistic smiles that made Javier's blood run cold. He looked down to see Ryan on the floor, his shirt stained with red. A look of anger, no anger was to gentle, a look of rage appeared on Esposito's face. A new sense of determination seemed to have magically appeared after those many moments dedicated only to fear. Tyson just kept grinning, taunting him, draining him of all the things he held dear, because the only thing that mattered was the man lying on the floor at the enemies' feet.

He felt like a bull in a ring only instead of a red cloth he was being taunted with his best friends' life. His partner let out a whimper barely audible over the pounding of his heart beating against his ribcage. Ryan turned over slightly, whether it was because of the pain or the fact that Tyson's face was smiling sickly up above, he didn't know. He wanted to reach for his gun only to realize he had not taken it with him.

He risked a glance down at his partner, starting at the torso and glancing slowly upward. He noticed Kevin's hand pressed tightly against his chest, right above the heart, almost like he was trying to remove the source of pain. Red liquid stained his t-shirt almost down to his abdomen. Continuing upwards, he finally glanced at his partners face. It was contorted in such a way that you could nearly feel the agony rolling off in waves. A crease in his forehead represented just how much pain he was in. If it had been any other day he would have said it was kind of cute, although he would never admit it. Now it was like torture. He could see all that pain but could do nothing for it, only stay paralyzed and watch his partner bleed out.

For some reason Ryan's eyes were calm, not at all reflecting the rest of him. It was as if Ryan knew he was going to die, like he knew he wouldn't survive. Even through all the pain, Esposito couldn't help but stare at his partner. In so much pain but accepting death, something he never thought Ryan would ever do. Even in such a dire situation those eyes were always the same and maybe it was just his imagination but Ryan seemed almost happy. Not in the yeah I'm going to die kind of way but in a way that if it could be converted into words would almost say I'm glad you're here. It was cliché and he knew it but staring back at him were the same eyes he saw every day at work and all the madden nights in-between. Starring back at him were the eyes that even when they weren't there you could almost feel them, those eyes that saw through all the lies you told and lit up when he won a bet, or laughed so hard those eyes started to cry.

He didn't even register the panicked look that had suddenly occurred before the bullet pierced his thigh. He fell to the ground, not so much falling but almost kneeling in slow motion. He crashed to the ground and a sound, a mix between a yelp and a scream, managed to escape him. It wasn't the physical pain as much as the emotional, the look of Ryan's face in full blown panic for the first time that evening.

He tried to move, only to find out it hurt too much. Tyson laughed, not like the ones in the old super villan movies but one of genuine happiness like it was the funniest things in the world. With no warning Jerry just left, not even a glance at either of his two victims. He stepped over Ryan's crumpled form with ease and when he reached Esposito, Javier tried to reach up but for some reason his hands decided they were quiet comfortable trying to stop the bleeding of his leg. He could only look up in disgust as Ryan's kidnapper exited unharmed like the ghost he was.

Turning around and facing his partner he was shocked to Ryan no longer in pain, but even more so to see his hands no longer clasped over his chest.

He couldn't help the unconsciousness that overtook him. It was not from blood loss, he hadn't been bleeding that long, but the emotional and physical drain of seeing his partner, his best friend and maybe just a little bit more slip away. He couldn't help the tears welling up in his eyes for the partner he would never see again.

**Please Review.**


	11. Chapter 11

**Esposito's Point of View**

* * *

><p>The paramedics found him a few hours later, or so he was told. He acted grateful, smiling at people he knew, saying "thank god" more times than he could count, but inside he knew he wasn't. Soon after he woke the memories came flooding back, as well as the guilt. He had let his partner die and despite the minor injury he couldn't walk three damn feet. He couldn't even will his own body to reach up and try to stop Jerry Tyson.<p>

He knew the police would question him about what the suspect was wearing, when and why they had taken Ryan and worst of all why he couldn't stop him, it was routine and he knew it. If the questions didn't kill him it would be the guilt. Not the guilt that swallows you up and then disappears, no that would be a relief. It was the kind of guilt that frays the edges of your sanity, the guilt that worked its way through your subconscious and woke you up from an otherwise peaceful existence. It was the kind of guilt that you could not escape. The kind of guilt that would never disappear, the kind of guilt that woke you up at midnight because you thought you heard your partner cry out to you, the kind of guilt that haunted you day in and day out.

He had never experienced anything like this with Thornton. He wasn't even in the same side of town when Ike was "killed", but not with Ryan. He was three feet away. He could almost hear the sound of his partner's heart beating and the heat rolling off of him in agony filled waves. He could almost feel his partners eye of his back, unraveling him from the inside out. He could almost hear the sound of Kevin's shallow breathing, and the blood pounding against the dull metal bullet. He swore he could hear Kevin call out his name in a hoarse tone, almost a whisper. He was so close, too close, he could see the pleading look displayed in his Ryan's face.

He and Kevin had often joked about what it would be like to actually have a time machine. They had suggested using it to go back in time and ask the girl who would have said yes to go to prom with them instead of being that guy sitting in the corner with a bunch of jerks. Now Javier knew what he would have done, he would have gone back in time and stopped Tyson from shooting Ryan or even better not even being arrested. Yes a serial killer would have gone free, but Kevin would be here, with him. Partners till the wheels to fall off.

But now because of him there were no wheels to fall. They had fallen off and plummeted into the abyss, the place of no return. There wasn't even anything to attach them too if he did manage to find them. They were a metaphorical object who's only objective was to signify their friendship, there partnership. Now there was nothing to represent. Now it was just some guy cooped up in a hospital with a minor injury and a two day medical leave from his job at a precinct. He wasn't a cop anymore, just a coward, and a fool. Two days and he would be back at his job, without Kevin by his side. Two days and he would be fine, and what did Ryan have. Forever in some unknown mystery and eternity in a place nobody ever came back from.

He knew the guilt would haunt him and it had a damn good reason. He had let his partner die and his killer walk free over his own paralyzed form. Ryan's murderer would never be caught, never brought to justice and just because his body was just too damn stubborn. He didn't even give a sideways glance to his partners dying body only three feet away. He had been too busy watching a ghost doing what it did best, disappear. After two of days being cooped up in a hospital he was fet up with having the same thought rocketing around inside his head like it was its life mission. He couldn't stand the guilt and the suffering he had knowingly caused Ryan. Within a few days he would be free to live his life while Ryan lost his.

Packing up the get well card from Beckett, the large overpriced teddy bear from Lanie and those disgusting chocolates his mother had sent him, he slung his bag over his shoulder and headed home. When he arrived home, it felt empty and it scared him. His home had never been truly empty before. It always had some movement whether it be him alone or him and Ryan, it was never empty. He couldn't even sit down on his couch; it reminded him too much of the Madden nights that he had hosted every other Thursday. Today would have been Ryan's night to host, but of course Ryan wouldn't be at home.

Returning to work the morning proved to be a challenge. He was happy to be home, he really was, but at the same time it was a curse. He hadn't gotten much sleep last night; the memory of his partner dying a few feet away seemed to haunt his every thought, even in his subconscious he dreamed that Ryan was yelling out to him, beckoning him to help, but he couldn't move. He could only watch as Kevin bled out, the waves of agony never ceasing to roll off his partners' suppressed form. He had woken up in a cold sweat, jolted awake by the powerful feeling of a bullet piercing his chest and his partners look of smugness. In his dream Kevin was taunting him, almost laughing at him, laughing at the Latinos helplessness and lifting away the fine veil protecting his soul from the guiltiness in his heart. Laughing at his partner, laughing at the man who was always there for him and who never left his side. This had been the first time in years he hadn't gone with Ryan and the only time it had ever really mattered.

Everything seemed to remind him of Ryan, his partner ... um former partner. He had gotten out of the habit of making coffee in the morning, preferring the processed stuff Ryan brought him before the first body was called in or when he jogged past the barrier of yellow tape. It wasn't as grand as Kate's bear claw and expensive brew but it suited him just fine.

He sat down on the couch, hoping that the others would try to understand if he was a little late. He tried to get comfortable but failed miserably. He stood up quickly, trying to escape the sharp pain in his backside. Picking up the sharp metal object he immediately recognized it as Ryan's lapel pin, a classic American flag, always the patriot, Esposito thought. He must have left it here last week when a particularly intense round of Madden had continued on till past one in the morning.

Esposito had got up to retrieve two more beers from the fridge. It couldn't have been more than a minute but when he returned Ryan was sleeping peacefully, taking up the three cushions of Esposito's leather sectional, a big difference from Ryan's red monstrosity. He remembered having to resist the urge to curl up right beside him, not caring if his arm draped ever so slightly against the other mans small waist.

Looking at his watch he stood up quickly yet again, spilling a small amount of bad tasting coffee-like sludge to his wrinkled polo and losing the comfort of the desk chair he had been sitting on. He had been sitting there for half an hour, reminiscing or whatever it was called. If he kept this up he would have to be excused for a lot more than an hour.

Getting up he nearly ran for the elevator, the small drop of toxic sludge completely forgotten.

* * *

><p><strong>Please Review<strong>


	12. Chapter 12

**Esposito's Point of view**

* * *

><p>Esposito had a new partner, a really annoying one. They had only been together a few days but even in that short time he had conjured up several reasons to hate the guy. He was an average guy, clearly from New York. He didn't have a name, he didn't need one. He was officially named newbie, at least in Javier's perspective. He would have called him New Guy but that would have been too personal. They have had a few "new guys" during the time Esposito was here. First was Demming and they had turned out to be great friends. The second was Ryan and it was for that precise reason that Newbie couldn't have it. He remembered judging Ryan, more for his horrible sense of style than anything relevant. The man wouldn't know a good tie if it was waved in front of his very attractive face.<p>

But not newbie. He dressed bland, like Montgomery after too many years in the force, like his mother still picked out his clothes for him, by which Esposito's standards was completely plausible. Not only that, but he was a rookie, a smart one for that matter, and it reminded him too much of Ryan. In the beginning he had called Ryan a wise ass but after completing a major bust on a mafia ring, he thought new guy deserved more credit than he was receiving, thus why they became friends.

Well actually that wasn't true. It started with coffee and then slowly progressed to x-box in the break room until finally Madden night was born. Every Thursday they would go place or the other, drink bear, eat pizza and well, playing Madden. It was different with Ryan because this had started only a month into their partnership. Maybe if he gave Newbie a chance, thought Esposito. He quickly pushed the thought out of his head.

Newbie was laughing with Beckett, just like he seen Ryan do so many times. Maybe it was just him, or maybe Newbie really laughed like Kevin. He looked away, resisting the urge to look up and the wish that staring back would be blue eyes of New Guy and not the grey ones of Newbie.

Someone called out his name, probably Beckett, he wouldn't have heard Newbie. Their suspect had arrived. This case was a major one, the killing of the leader of the Cridenchos a group of polish immigrants particularly well know in the drug trading industry. Putting on his interrogation face and entering the florescent lit room, he sat down; turning his chair around merely for dramatic flair knowing the suspect would never fall for it. He barely registered his new partner settling in the seat beside him. The interrogation was going well, as well as you could go when talking to a brick wall. The entire room was silent. The suspects breathing was even and his rounded face as emotionless as Ryan in his final moments of life.

It was funny; Ryan had never been shot, never seriously injured. The one time he was, it had been fatal. Together they had survived concussions and the odd situation without a gun but never anything like this. This was something entirely different, the physical pain couldn't even measure up the emotions he was feeling. It was hell, nothing else could be said. Hell minus the pitchforks and fire, but with all the anger and depression.

Inside he was empty, like that hollow feeling after a bad break up or the death of a close friend. The hollowness that could only be compared to a jack o lantern after its one day of fame. The hollowness of being paired up with some annoying partner only days after the death of his former, the death of your best friend.

The emotions began to overwhelm him and he knew he couldn't take it anymore. He got up in a hurry and if it was an option he would have slammed the door. He practically ran into Montgomery's office, not forgetting to damage a wall on his way in. Anger and frustration were the only things he cared about right now. That and finding Jerry Tyson.

He barged in, not caring if others were staring, he knew they were. Montgomery looked up, the bemused look unchanging. He just looked, like he didn't even care what Javier was going through, not even caring about his detective's resentment and pure emotional agony. He looked up again, a look of confusion never making an appearance. It was the last look he saw before slamming down his worn out badge and existing the precinct, stack of paper work forgotten.

The drive home was quiet; the only sound audible above the steady progression of traffic and agitated drivers was the heavy pant of his breathing, a steady rhythm in an otherwise hectic day. He hadn't expected the Captain to just let him walk out, not even a sound of protest. He just sat there as if he didn't care, not that he really got a chance to. He didn't even stop him from taking home his firearm instead of signing it out like he did every night.

His breathing was harsh, erratic yet oddly calming. It was a sigh that he was living, a simple gesture Ryan had been robbed of. He was alive, mentally and physically. The rush of adrenaline was beginning to wear off. He didn't want it to, but really who ever did. For once he wasn't plagued with guilt, and too distracted by the feeling of power to care. He wished he could stay like this, floating on the cloud of ignorance till it got a chance to solidify. In it he would forget about Ryan, the pain and the guilt and most of all Jerry Tyson. The smug look on his face while he ruined Javier's life. The arrogance associated with the soullessness of Jerry Tyson and the crumbling of Javier's cop instincts.

The traffic had cleared by the time Javier had made it to the underground parking of the dingy living quarters he called home. He was grateful for the emptiness of the deserted lot. His eyes stung, not from guilt or anger but from the exaggerated effort it took to keep up his mask of calm demeanor. Inside he was crumbling, breaking into intangible shards. He prompted for the stairs; the car ride had made use of all remaining patients.

He opened the door with shaking hands, fumbling once or twice but never having to bend down to retrieve his keys. When he finally entered the apartment, he had felt calm. Totally opposite from the morning those many days ago. He no longer felt the ghost of memories linger in his apartment. It felt empty but this time he didn't care. This was how he wanted it, quiet, room to breathe, space to think. He placed his key in the bowl he never used to use. If he couldn't organize his thoughts he could at least make sure his apartment was orderly. He didn't even put away his fire arm, he just ran for the kitchen, being cautious not to make anything topple. He scrounged around noisily, and finally pulled out a single sticky note and a cheap, nearly broken pen. Scrawling down a note he promptly stuck it on the fridge, the only flaw on the otherwise flawless exterior.

He retrieved a beer, the one with the highest alcohol content, not that he needed it. He took the cool bottle, placed it on his living room coffee table and sat down on the couch, right above the spot Ryan's head had been only ten days before. He didn't care, Ryan was gone. He was never coming back. It had to be accepted, even if it was hard. He couldn't go on believing in a ghost, it wasn't healthy and he understood that, regardless of how much his emotions hated the sudden realization.

He drew out his weapon and rested it gently against his palms, sheltering it as if it were as delicate as glass. He knew it wasn't. It was designed to kill, to injure and to save. He also knew it could do all three at once. It could save him from the guilt and the pain associated with the loss. It could also injure those around him but most of all he understood it could kill.

He had never killed anyone using his weapon and was happy to say he never needed to. He would usually just talk them out of it, but not today. He had tried to talk himself out of it, out of using it for evil. He had try saying he still had work, and a family, but he couldn't convince himself. He had lost someone he truly loved, someone he trusted with his life and would take a bullet for if the situation ever arose.

With a sigh of relief he raised the barrel to his temple. His mind went back to the note he had written earlier. Scrawled on the florescent yellow page were the words "till the wheels fall off" and fall of they would.

Without Ryan he was a car with no wheels, a box of metal and wiring but nowhere to go and nothing to take you there. Pressed against his temple was power, power to choose your own fate and a chance to free yourself. He was freeing himself; he had convinced himself of that. He was freeing himself from the world, from the memories that haunted him and most of all an existence without Ryan. It was like yin without yang and it was better to have none than one or the other. It was a risk and he knew it but in the end, whatever it turned out to be, it would be worth it. His last thoughts before the darkness swallowed him up were of Ryan, and the promise they had made.

"Till the wheels fall off" till the very end.

* * *

><p><strong>Complete. Please Review. Warning: Long Authors' note ahead:<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>For those who prevailed thank you for following this story and reviewing. What happened to Beckett and everyone else in this story, it is an open ended story so use your imagination. This story is dedicated to Monique and Alethea who are the best friends ever as well as my goldfish Sunshine and Nemo a tie for the second best goldfish ever. Resposito forever. Dream compactor, tri-five, Ryan Esposito, feed the birds. (Monique you know what I'm talking about).<strong>


End file.
